


Voting in Arcadia

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [285]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 09:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16531901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: Voting on Tuesday, November 6th.





	Voting in Arcadia

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta Helen   
> Laura McEwan for posting to the Master Apprentice ML  
> Travis for posting to the Master Apprentice Archive on AO3   
> Alex for inspiring Arcadia

"Vote on Tuesday, November 6th, please."

Ian's voice was a bit hoarse from so many 'get out the vote' calls, and Quinn handed him a bottle of Evian from the refreshments table with a smile. Ian took a grateful sip and made his next phone call. The two of them were volunteers, among dozens of others, at the Vote-athon in ARC-170, the auditorium of the Alder Run Civic Center, over lunch hour on Monday, the day before the midterm elections. Excitement was high, and the music of overlapping conversations wafted through the air. Case, Ethan, and Evan were also participating, and they would come over later in the day in Case's new CR90 Corvette.

Quinn would drive Mr. Jefferson, Violet, and Prudence to the polling station on Tuesday as soon as they'd finished their morning classes, after making sure that their family had also voted. Ian would take some of their friends further afield who didn't have cars to the polls, as well.

The men ended up staying until almost two o'clock in the afternoon. When they completed their stint at the phone bank, the professors waved goodbye to their friends Sharrie and Victor, sitting across from them, who were right in the middle of their calls. They used the facilities up the hall, then went outside. Now that lunch hour was long gone, they finally opted to eat lunch themselves.

They decided to head over to a restaurant a couple of blocks from the civic center today since they'd had their fill of the hustle and bustle of the auditorium already. The eatery was whimsically named 'The Chilly Chipmunk', and they walked there because the center was surrounded by a municipal park that was a pleasure to ramble through. The seasonal menu was another incentive since they hadn't sampled it yet.

Their stroll to the restaurant was invigorating, especially after too much sitting for a couple of hours. It was a gloriously sunny day with a temperature of 52 degrees now at 2 pm. Larks and swallows greeted them with raucous cries overhead, and a hedgehog, who Quinn was sure he'd seen before, darted into the shade of an oak tree.

They ambled along hand in hand, until Ian paused to look around them to make sure flora and fauna were the only ones watching. Then he stood on tiptoe to give Quinn a quick peck on the lips, their first kiss since breakfastime. When Quinn's eyes crinkled in delight, Ian knew he'd done the right thing, despite being in public. Quinn might even give him extra Padawan points for his Jedi-like awareness of his surroundings.

The men wore their teaching uniforms of corduroy jackets in different shades of brown over lighter slacks, blending right into the natural ecosystem around them. Along the way, they passed election posters taped on almost every tree lining the path, smiling at the enthusiasm of the folks of Alder Run. And the trees themselves wore their election finery in smoky colors of yellow, orange, and burnt sienna.

The sign on the restaurant showed a chipmunk in a hat, scarf, and jacket, perfect for Alder Run's climate a good part of the year. The interior was decorated in autumnal hues that matched the trees outside beautifully. The men could tell by the decor that the proprietors were big Skyhawks boosters, not surprising since they were located so close to campus.

There was a banner in the dining room with a Skyhawk clutching a russet leaf in its claw, with the caption 'Skyhawks in Autumn'; a potpourri of spices, including sachets of ginger, nutmeg, and cinnamon, in a terra-cotta bowl on the hostess' desk; the mantel over the fireplace had a burnt-orange runner with a cornucopia in the center bracketed by vintage photographs of Alder Run through the years. The hostess escorted them to a booth by the window, where Quinn could enjoy the pumpkin-colored leaves of his new friend, a magnificent maple tree. Luckily, since it was after two o'clock by now, there were only a few other folks in the room, with no one seated near them.

The staff had outdone themselves on the menu today -- diners had the option of deciding on their own multi-course lunch, and they could check their choice of appetizer, entree, and dessert as if voting for them. The professors chuckled when their waitress, who introduced herself as Sookie, handed them out. They had pens in their shirt pockets so there was no need for her to provide them.

While they pondered their choices, Sookie brought over a tray with a piping hot loaf of cornbread and chive-butter, as well as glasses of water. They started on the cornbread before deciding on their meal, unable to resist the lure of butter melting into the fresh loaf.

The appetizers were indeed appetizing: miniature meat pasties, which reminded them of a long-ago lunchtime in Colonial Williamsburg; shrimp scampi; and chicken samosas with curry dipping sauce. Quinn decided on the samosas, while Ian went with the pasties.

The choices for the main course were meatloaf in Beaujolais gravy with frizzled onions, mashed sweet potatoes, and beets; venison pot pie with sage stuffing on the side; pork dumplings with carrots and celery; and sausage ravioli in roasted garlic sauce. Ian chose the pot pie, and Quinn ordered the meatloaf, both men getting a kick out of checking them off with a flourish.

Dessert was an equally tough decision: warm gingerbread with lemon curd; apple pandowdy with vanilla-bean custard; or chocolate mousse. Quinn had to have the pandowdy, while Ian picked the gingerbread.

They finished checking the squares by their choices and gave the menus back to Sookie, who said, "Thanks for your vote, fellas," with a bright smile, which deepened even more when they laughed merrily.

"Such a clever idea to have a menu like this," Quinn said, while buttering another piece of cornbread. "They usually have large lunch crowds here at noon, so 'tis an excellent reminder for folks to go vote on Tuesday."

"And there are posters all over town," Ian added, then took a sip of water. "So much excitement this year. I can feel it."

"So can I, lad," said Quinn with a wink, indulging in a rare bit of teasing Ian in public, always a sign of Quinn being in a great mood.

Their appetizers came, and their usual high-level negotiations ensued. Samosas and pasties changed places at Force-enhanced speed, like pieces on a checkerboard, and they dug in heartily because they hadn't eaten since breakfast at 7 a.m. They were content just to enjoy their food for a while, with no need for conversation.

After the last crumb was finished, Quinn said, "I'm really enjoying the 'Will & Grace' reboot. The series first came out when I was getting my doctorate at Bailor, and it made a world of difference to me." He drank some water. "I didn't have much time for television in those days, but I always made time to see it. Since I was a graduate student, I had my own room on campus so I wasn't worried about what my classmates might think."

Ian nodded. "I was in my first year at Georgeton, and I actually worked up the nerve to walk into Lambda Rising after watching an episode." He was referring to a bookstore, which had been one of the centers of LGBT culture in Washington, D.C. back in the late 1990s.

"My courageous laddie," said Quinn. "It took guts to do that back then."

Ian chuckled. "Thanks. I'm laughing because of a cute coincidence. I used to take a minibus to Georgeton since I lived in Arlington, Virginia, and it was called the GUTS bus, short for Georgeton University Transportation Service. So it did take GUTS."

Quinn groaned heartily, joining in his husband's merriment and enjoying his anecdote. "And while you were gallivanting all over Washington, I was so deeply closeted at Bailor that I smelled of cedarwood."

This wry comment kept their laughter going until the main course came a moment later. Sookie also took the opportunity to refill their water glasses and give them extra napkins. The food was too hot to eat so they continued to chat for a few more minutes.

"I remember you telling me about your dissertation advisor, who also advised you to get married to further your career," Ian said with some annoyance.

Quinn covered Ian's fingers with his huge hand. "Now, laddie, I understand why that upsets you, but it was 'long ago and far, far away', truly a different galaxy back then, and he was just trying to look out for me."

"I know, but it's still infuriating." Ian sipped his water to cool down. "If you hadn't been a man of such exemplary character, you and a poor lass would be miserable right now." His next words came out in a whisper, "And we never would've met."

"Of course we would have met, mo chree," (sweetheart) said Quinn softly. "Doesn't matter the time or place, we're meant to be together." He petted Ian's hand beneath his own.

"You got that right," said Ian fiercely.

Now that they'd cooled down along with the food, they were ready to eat. They savored their entrees, as well as their intermittent conversation. Quinn indulged in a habit of his that was very endearing to Ian -- he mixed the portion Ian had given him of pot pie with his own meatloaf and relished the blended savories and sauce he'd created. When Ian saw the sublime look on his herven's face, he promptly spooned over even more food onto Quinn's plate, taking a beet while he was there just for the sheer joy of it.

Quinn deliberately lightened the mood all the more by chatting about Will and Grace's adventures, past and present. "I've always thought that Vince is just perfect for Will. Wish they'd decided to keep to the original storyline and have them get married."

"Yeah, that would've been great," Ian agreed. "Amazing to think they'd be celebrating their 12th anniversary this year, then."

"No more amazing than all of our time together." Quinn smiled warmly at his husband. "We're even one up on them -- I can't believe it, but it's been 13 years since we married in Windover, and 7 since our wedding at Luke Chapel."

Ian whistled. "Time doesn't just fly," he said dryly, "it moves at the speed of light."

"That it does, darlin', that it does." Quinn dipped his fingertip into Ian's enchanting dimple.

Sookie beamed at them, although they didn't see it, as she made her way over to their table. They were the last lunch customers left in the restaurant, and she had the time to indulge them. She brought their oven-warm desserts, along with extra plates since she'd seen them sharing their food throughout the meal. "Would you like any of our specialty coffees, gentlemen?" she asked.

"That would be a kindness," said Quinn. "A cinnamon cappuccino for me, please."

"And I'll have a vanilla latte, please," Ian said.

While they were waiting for the coffee, they started in on their gingerbread and pandowdy. This time, Ian also tried Quinn's way of eating, by scooping a combination of both of them in one spoonful. Quinn was right, as usual. It was just delicious. Sookie had their drinks ready when they'd only finished a third of their dessert so they were able to alternate sips of coffee with bites of still-warm cake and pastry.

Since they were done with their classes for the day, the men were able to indulge not just in dessert but in the time needed to savor it. When Ian managed to get a bit of froth on the bow of his upper lip, Quinn knew it was time to head home. His lad grinned impishly after licking it off so it was fortunate that Sookie brought the bill soon afterwards. Ian paid for his mischievousness and their lunch with his MasterGuard, but it was well worth it for both of them.

When they were on the pathway back to the THX, Quinn asked, "What would you like to do when we get home, mo ghra?" (my love)

"I vote for a kiss," said Ian, the gleam in his eye making voting absolutely irresistible, just like Ian himself.


End file.
